


A Little Touch of Heavenly Light

by dk323



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Amnesiac Sam Winchester, Angst and Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Sastiel Secret Santa 2019, Sastiel Secret Santa Exchange, Sastiel secret santa
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-01-05
Updated: 2020-01-05
Packaged: 2021-02-27 09:14:09
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,420
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22014682
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/dk323/pseuds/dk323
Summary: Not long after his departure from the Bunker, Castiel receives an urgent call from Dean about Sam needing help. Then after a call from Sam, a very worried Castiel returns to check in on Sam and offer his assistance. (Canon divergent post-15x03)
Relationships: Castiel/Sam Winchester
Comments: 2
Kudos: 54





	A Little Touch of Heavenly Light

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Theangelofawinchester](https://archiveofourown.org/gifts?recipient=Theangelofawinchester).



> Canon divergent post-15x03: Dean and Cas find out about Sam’s nightmares/visions sooner.
> 
> Also, some of the flashback scene inspired by a scene in _What the Heart Wants_ , a part of _The Other Guardian_ series by Red_River. **Link:** [What the Heart Wants](https://archiveofourown.org/works/960461/chapters/1881826)
> 
> Story title from song lyrics to "Breath of Life" by _Florence + The Machine_.
> 
> This was written for [TheAngelofaWinchester](https://theangelofawinchester.tumblr.com). Thank you for the great prompt ideas! :) They were very inspirational. 
> 
> Thank You to [Sastiel Creations Challenge](https://sastielcreationschallenge.tumblr.com/) for organizing this Sastiel Secret Santa Exchange. :-)
> 
> **Happy New Year!** Hope you all enjoy this story.

His cell phone was ringing again. Castiel tried to ignore it, but a feeling of guilt came over him. He knew who it was from. Sam had sent him texts and there were the missed calls, the voicemails. From the implication of Sam’s texts, Castiel surmised that Dean had not told Sam the true reason why he had left. Sam did not know how Dean’s stinging words to him had been the catalyst for his departure.

Where did this leave him then? Was he responsible now for telling Sam the truth? But he also didn’t wish to cause a rift between the brothers. Especially after everything that had happened. All the losses, the devastation, the uncertainty of what was to come. 

Yet Castiel did wish to speak to Sam. Although he persuaded himself it was a bad idea. A small fear grew that Sam would fall in line with Dean with Castiel’s exit. That Sam would agree with Dean’s assessment that Castiel had been the cause -- no matter how indirect or unintentional-- of their mother’s death, that his actions had led to Rowena’s death. 

He recalled Dean's accusations that everything wrong had to do with him. That had hurt and Castiel had been so upset that leaving abruptly seemed best. But a part of him had wished to make a detour to check up on Sam. Except he felt it hadn't been the right time. He didn't want to intrude on Sam's grief after Rowena's demise. 

It would have been wrong of him to confide in Sam then. Let him know what Dean had told him, the terrible accusation he had made. Castiel could trust Sam to reassure him then, tell him he was a good person. Reminding him of the times Castiel did do the right thing. That what Dean had said was wrong and Sam didn't agree.

But still, Cas thought it would be selfish to ask that of Sam. To seek him out simply to make himself feel better after Dean made him feel doubt about his actions. 

Cas decided to give Sam some time. And then he would come to see him. From the growing number of concerned texts and voicemails, Castiel owed one of his closest friends at least that. He wanted to see Sam in person. He felt that conveying what he wanted to say in a call or a text wasn't good enough. Sam deserved better than that.

The next day, the phone rang again in the motel room he was staying at. Castiel was in the middle of looking into a possible case. He glanced at the phone and saw it was Dean. He let the phone keep ringing.

He continued to look through the files he'd obtained. The phone stopped ringing, but then started up again a few moments later. Castiel let his phone ring once again. It eventually stopped. But as before, the ringing resumed with a new call.

Castiel sighed. If Dean was this persistent, then he should answer. After all, maybe he or Sam needed his immediate assistance. He was a few hours away from the Bunker, so hopefully they had an alternative if they required aid right away.

"Dean. What is it?"

"I need your help." Dean said, to the point.

"Sam cannot help you?"

"That's the thing, Cas. It's Sam. He needs help."

"Then why did you say you needed help?"

Castiel was concerned by Dean saying Sam needed help. He wanted to know the details. But Dean had frustrated him during their argument in the Bunker. He thought it was fair that he annoy Dean a little bit in return.

"I can't get back into the Bunker. Sam...he-- he had this bad fever. Really high. Maybe from the gunshot wound. Thought he was getting better after the meds. But I think he got some of Chuck's powers and he fuckin' teleported me out of the bunker and locked me out."

"You can't get back into the Bunker."

"Yeah. Look, I know you said your powers were on the fritz."

"I said they were failing," Cas interrupted, correcting him.

"Whatever, man. You can help though, right? I think Sam is getting paranoid, still has a fever. He said he didn't want to hurt me. Said he's been having these weird nightmares where he kills me. You can use your angel mojo to calm him down, right?"

"I can try," Cas said. 

He would do everything in his ability to help Sam.

“Good, that’s good.”

“Dean.”

“Yeah?”

“I would prefer to see Sam alone. It may be better for him if he doesn’t feel overwhelmed…”

“Sure, I get it. Don’t want him feeling ganged up on. Could make it worse. Uh, I’ll just go. Lucky the car is parked outside here. Call me if you need anything.”

“Of course. I will be there in about three hours.”  
“Got it. Thanks, Cas.”

“Yes. Goodbye,” Castiel said shortly, hanging up the phone without waiting for Dean’s reply. 

He was still upset with Dean after all. Castiel hadn’t wanted Dean to shift the topic to their fight. It was certainly the last thing he wished to discuss. Especially over the phone.

Cas returned to looking through the papers. He was distracted though. His worry for Sam leaving him unable to focus on the current case. If it was even a case. Right now, he surmised the murders weren't caused by a supernatural creature. His priority now was helping Sam. Hopefully the police in this town could handle the case from here.

Just as he was about to gather his things and make his exit, Cas's phone rang again. 

Sam was calling.

Cas quickly picked up the phone, swiping the answer button.

"Sam? Are you okay? Dean told me what happened."

"Remember when you saved me from drowning in that frozen pond?" Sam asked. 

His voice sounded odd -- wistful like he was in a memory and not in the present moment.

"Yes, I do."

Castiel wasn't sure if he should remind Sam that the pond incident had been close to three years ago. Back before Jack was born, when Castiel was searching for Kelly Kline. 

Considering Dean's words about Sam's current behavior, Castiel felt it best to be careful what he said to Sam. He wanted to keep Sam on the phone. 

Perhaps the fever was causing Sam to want to discuss old memories. He decided it would be wise to let Sam continue with his train of thought. Less chance of Sam hanging up that way.

"I thought I was going to die," Sam said to him.

"You did not. I'm on my way to see you, Sam. You shouldn't be alone," Castiel advised.

"I'm not alone," Sam said, his answer giving Castiel pause.

"I don't understand," Cas said, frowning. 

"I wanted to thank you for saving me, Cas."

"I'm glad I was able to help you."

Castiel wondered why Sam felt the need to thank him again. He clearly remembered Sam that day thanking him for the rescue. Sam did always try his best to express his gratitude for what Cas did.

"I needed you to know," Sam said quietly. 

His voice was hard to hear but Cas caught it, so hyper aware of Sam's every word on the phone.

"This isn't the way I wanted it to be. Goodbye, Cas. I-- I have to go."

"Sam? Please don't…" 

But it was too late. Sam had ended the call.

Cas felt fear settle inside him. He quickly checked out of his motel room and climbed into his car.

It was times like these that he missed having working wings.

He called Sam multiple times with no answer. He texted Sam as well. Still no response. In the end, he got a hold of Dean and asked him to call Sam. He relayed the concerning last words Sam had said to him.

Dean assured him he was on it and just to focus on returning to the Bunker as soon as possible.

Feeling a little better, Castiel drove as fast as he could.

Three hours later, Castiel arrived at the bunker. He was prevented from going inside when he noticed that the bunker was warded. Against angels. Against him. Why had Sam done this?

He got out his phone and called Sam. Castiel took a deep breath, exhaling, as he wasn’t sure what state Sam was in when he answered. Or would Sam even decide to answer the phone.

Hopefully Dean had gotten through to him. Castiel hadn’t liked the way Sam had said goodbye to him. That had left Castiel very worried about Sam. He hoped that Sam wouldn’t harm himself.

Castiel sighed in relief when he heard Sam’s voice on the phone.

“Yeah, what is it, Cas?” Sam asked. 

He sounded distracted as if he was deep into research and was only giving the call half his attention.

“Sam, are you okay? Your last call had me concerned.”

“I’m fine, Cas. Recovering from a bad fever. Forget what I said earlier. Fever must have spiked then and I may have said weird things. I took some meds though. I’m getting better,” Sam reassured him.

“Did Dean call you?”

“Yeah, why?”

“Do you remember what you did, Sam? Dean told me you teleported him out of the bunker. He thinks you have some of Chuck’s powers.”

There was a long moment of silence. A silence that had Castiel wishing that the bunker wasn’t warded. He wanted to run in there to see Sam with his own eyes.

Then,

“That’s fucked up. Listen, Cas, I’m really sorry, but I gotta go.”

“Sam, wait! Wait,” Castiel said, tone urgent. He hoped that Sam wouldn’t hang up on him. “The bunker, it’s warded. I can’t get in.”

Fortunately Sam stayed on the line. “That’s for the best. I’ve been having nightmares where I kill Dean. I don’t know if I’ll get nightmares of hurting you too. If somehow I’ll be compelled to act out hurting you or Dean in reality. I can’t risk it. I can’t put you in danger.”

“It’s okay, Sam. I accept the risk,” Castiel told him.

He was so focused on persuading Sam to lift the warding that he didn’t pay much mind to Sam’s concern about hurting him. One thing at a time. Getting into the Bunker to see Sam was the priority. Cas hoped his powers, though failing, could still help Sam with easing his fears.

“I’m sorry, Cas. Just please, go. I’m sure you have better things to do. Don’t waste your time on me when I don’t need your help now.” Sam pleaded with him.

“Sam, I’m worried about you.”

“Just stop, all right, Cas? Just this one thing. I’m fine. I need to be alone for a little bit. Call Dean or whatever and you two can come up with a plan to convince me to let you both back in. If that’ll make you feel better. For now, just let me go. Please.”

Castiel heard a beep as Sam ended the call, not allowing Castiel to give him a reply.

He looked at his phone, frustrated at his failure at getting through to Sam. Something was very wrong. No matter what Sam had said. Something odd was going on with him and it wasn’t just the fever.

Castiel texted Dean that Sam had warded the bunker against him. Dean replied right away that he’ll talk to Sam.

Castiel wasn’t sure how much success Dean would have since he himself had trouble getting through to Sam on the phone. As far as he was aware, Dean was still locked out of the bunker. Castiel imagined he was probably at a bar somewhere, judging from the background noise he’d heard while speaking to Dean.

Castiel sat in his car and recalled the memory that Sam had brought up before. When Castiel had saved him from drowning.

They had been in Colorado. They had just finished a case and he, Sam and Dean were planning to head back home the next day. There was a frozen pond in the backyard of the cabin they were staying at.

It was wintertime, and Sam had been feeling the spirit of the season. At least that’s what he’d told Castiel and Dean when he’d brought up skating. Dean had just rolled his eyes -- he wasn’t much of an ice skater. 

Castiel, on the other hand, had told Sam that it was a nice idea.

Around 20 minutes later, Castiel and Dean heard the sound of something -- ice breaking. They both ran out to find Sam being forcibly pulled under the bitterly cold water.

“Seriously, a ghost haunting this ice patch? What the fuck.” Dean had uttered, annoyed.

Dean had been right as Castiel saw what was an apparition of a dark haired girl grabbing Sam. Sam clung to the edge as his legs were submerged underwater.

“Get him out!” Dean yelled over at Castiel. 

Dean ran back inside, presumably to get a rock salt gun.

Castiel didn’t need to be told twice. He knew this would be much easier if he had his full powers. Or at least, simply, had the ability to teleport. But he could still save Sam. Hurriedly, Castiel took off his trench coat and suit jacket-- dropping them off to the side.

He rushed across the ice, trusting his grace to keep him from breaking the ice and falling through himself.

“Sam! Take my hand,” He’d said to Sam.

He reached out his hand. Sam grabbed it, his wet hand clinging to Cas’s. He placed his other hand on the ice. He called up some of his grace to travel down beneath the ice where the ghost resided, still trying to drag Sam down.

The ghost was forced away from Sam as Castiel’s grace hurt her. As he’d planned, the ghost reappeared above him, looking clearly irritated at being kicked out from beneath the ice.

Shots rang out as rock salt struck the ghost. 

Dean kept hitting the ghost with the rock salt bullets. She vanished and then reappeared soon after, as if the rock salt’s effect didn’t last long on her.

“Cas?” Dean called out to him.

“I have Sam,” Castiel reassured him. 

“You’re okay, Sam,” Castiel said as he pulled Sam out.

“Thanks, Cas,” Sam told him, his voice trembling from the cold.

Then, to Castiel’s shock, Sam cried out as the persistent ghost yanked at his leg hard.

Sam was forced under, completely submerged this time.

“Sam!” Castiel called to him.

Without thinking, he dived into the water after Sam.

It took a considerable level of concentration, but his grace wrapped around him and protected his vessel from being affected by the dangerous drop in temperature.

Castiel embraced Sam, holding tight to his body as he swam back up to the surface.

Dean was there to pull them both out. 

Castiel carried Sam over to solid ground, away from the ice.

The ghost was still present, watching them with intent.

Angry, Castiel confronted the ghost -- leaving Dean to check on Sam-- and his eyes glowed a fierce blue as he stood in front of her.

He raised his hand in warning. He wasn’t sure how much he could do against her. For ghosts, it was best to find the object keeping them from moving on. But Castiel would do what he could. The ghost had almost killed Sam after all.

The ghost glared at him. But she clearly heeded the threat and she disappeared.

Castiel went back to Sam and Dean.

“He’s not waking up,” Dean told him.

Castiel pressed his hand to Sam’s chest. He bent his head down and closing his eyes, he released a sliver of grace from inside him. The grace passed from his lips to Sam’s mouth entering it, and healing him from the inside.

After a few moments, Sam gasped, coughing up water as he sat up.

“Cas,” He said breathlessly as he looked at Castiel with wonder and appreciation in his eyes. “You...saved me…”

Castiel smiled at him.

Castiel watched as Dean embraced his brother, saying, “Sammy, you idiot. Told you skating was a crap idea.”

Sam gave him a weak smile. Dean helped him to stand up. Both Dean and Castiel supported him as they head back inside.

After Sam had taken a hot shower and was covered up in blankets in bed, he said to Castiel, “Thank you. I knew it was you. That it was your grace.” Sam confessed to him.

Castiel gave him a questioning look. “How did you know, Sam?”

He shrugged, smiling. “I’m not sure. Just a feeling. I guess you’ve been a part of our family for so long that I can even recognize your grace now. I felt safe, and… loved… and I knew it… it was you.”

Then Sam’s eyes widened as if he’d realized he’d said something he shouldn’t have. 

“Sam,” Castiel said quietly.

Sam held out his hand and Castiel, understanding, took it.

“I’m glad you were there,” Sam told him.

Castiel squeezed his hand. “Me too.”

Castiel was pulled out of the memory, smiling to himself at how the situation had ended.

As he remembered what was happening now, the uncertainty of Sam’s current state of mind, his concern returned.

About two hours after speaking to Sam, Castiel received a call from Dean.

“I got Sam to take the warding down. I think I’m going to head over to Jody’s, see how she and the others are doing. But listen, man, you should know what you’re walkin’ into. Sam… he’s gotten worse.”

Dean told him what he needed to know.

~ * ~

Castiel climbed down the stairs, heading into the bunker. He wanted to believe he was prepared for this, but this was certainly a situation that required care and precaution. At this time, he couldn’t help but recall the case he worked on with Sam in Charming Acres.

Considering what he knew, that case months ago paled in comparison to this. But he wouldn’t know for sure until he saw Sam for himself. Dean had only been working on what Sam had told him on the phone.

Castiel saw Sam sitting at the big round table in the War Room. His gaze was distant as if he were staring off into space. His right hand was fidgeting with one of the rings from the table.

“Sam?” Castiel said to him softly. 

He approached Sam, still remaining a few feet away from him, not wanting to make him nervous.

“You’re an angel,” Sam said, peering up at him in confusion. “Not sure if I can believe that since Dean is in Hell now. How he managed to call me the day after I saw him ripped apart, dragged by hellhounds down to Hell… I don’t get it. But I’m supposed to trust what he says. If that was even really Dean on the phone.”

“Sam… if you want, I can ask Dean to come here. And then you can see with your own eyes--”

“No, I don’t want that. It’s too soon. I just… I lost him only hours ago. I can’t deal with seeing him again. Not now,” Sam told him.

“I know this is hard for you, Sam, but it might be the only way to trust that Dean is who he says he is.” Castiel tried to reason with him.

Sam shook his head. He gripped the edges of the table. “No, not yet. Just… no.”

Castiel sighed. “Okay, that’s fine. I don’t wish to force you. If you want to talk-- my name is Castiel.”

“I’m not sure who to trust. I mean -- Dean told me that most angels were “dickbags.” But he was probably messing with me because he knows how much…”

“You want to believe that angels are as real as demons,” Castiel finished, looking at him sadly.

Sam shrugged. “Yeah, I guess so. Yes.”

“Dean is not wrong. There are angels who are trouble… Heaven stopped being my true home years ago because I didn’t agree with my fellow brothers and sisters. But I assure you, you can trust me, Sam.”

“Yeah, Dean told me that. How I could trust you. I’m just not feeling right… I can’t… it’s too much to process. One minute I’m grieving the loss of my brother and then the next, I’m being told all these things that make no sense.”

“I understand it’s overwhelming. But you are safe here, Sam. The Bunker is your home.”

“Never thought… growing up, all those years without a real permanent residence. I can’t believe it.”

“You have it now. You have a home. And I admit it feels like my home too. I feel better here than I ever have in Heaven.”

“I think I just need some time to think… on my own. Thank you for coming, Castiel,” Sam said his name like he was testing it out for the first time and found it a little strange. “I need more time to wrap my head around this. I’m sorry,” Sam apologized to him.

“Please don’t apologize to me, Sam. Not for this. Take the time you require. I can show you where your bedroom is so you can rest there.” Castiel offered.

“That would be good. Great. Thank you.”

Castiel led him to his room. It was a quiet walk as Sam didn’t say anything. Castiel thought he would have asked more questions. The situation must have truly overwhelmed him if it left him silent.

Castiel was surprised at how quickly things had shifted. Dean had told him that he’d convinced Sam to remove the warding and let Castiel in. Unfortunately, only minutes later while Dean was still on the phone with him, Sam started saying weird things. Years of memories seemed to just vanish in the blink of an eye.

Could the gunshot wound Sam had received after shooting Chuck with the Equalizer really cause such a peculiar side effect?

The thought of Sam never being able to regain over a decade of memories was sad to consider. Castiel wanted to believe he could fix it with his power, but working with the mind was a complicated affair. It was far easier to erase memories. Restoring years of memories was more difficult.

If the cause was truly the gunshot wound from a weapon created by Chuck himself… Castiel didn’t feel comfortable being the one to fix it. He didn’t wish to hurt Sam anymore than he’d already been hurt. He could make the problem even worse by erasing more memories. 

Thinking of all that Sam had been through, Castiel didn’t want to be the cause of further damage. He had already broken Sam’s mind years ago by breaking down the wall Death had put up. Castiel deeply regretted that action and hated remembering it. Sometimes, he felt his way of penance hadn’t been enough -- taking on Sam’s pain and trauma from Hell. 

Yet, Sam being Sam accepted his gesture of sacrifice, forgiving him. Due to this, Castiel did his best to make peace with how he had hurt Sam. And maybe one day, he would forgive himself completely.

For now, Castiel had to believe another way existed to help Sam.

“Castiel,” Sam’s voice brought Castiel out of his thoughts. 

He was thrown by the use of his full name. He had become more accustomed to being called, “Cas” by Sam and Dean.

“Is the room close? I wanted to check,” Sam said to him.

Castiel blinked at him, momentarily puzzled why Sam was asking this. Then he remembered that he had lost years from his memories. He didn’t know his way around the bunker.

Nodding, Castiel told him, “Yes, it’s just down here.”

They passed two more doors until they reached Sam’s bedroom. Castiel opened the door for him.

Sam paused at his door. He turned to Castiel, looking a little nervous. “Is there a way to prove you’re an angel?”

Castiel gave him a half-hearted smile. “I’m sorry, Sam, I would show you my wings -- at least their shadows as they can not be corporeal on this mortal plane. But they’ve been broken for some years now. I don’t feel comfortable revealing how damaged they are… not as they once were.”

Sam looked at him sadly. “What happened?”

“I trusted someone I shouldn’t have,” Castiel told him.

He thought darkly of Metatron’s treachery. His life and the lives of his fellow brothers and sisters had been changed forever in a terrible way.

Sam studied his face curiously. “Was it another angel? I remembered you said you didn’t agree with other angels.”

Castiel nodded. “Yes, I was too trusting to the wrong angel. I should have been more careful. The angel died a few years ago. What he did, the impact of that still lingers.”

Sam figured, “All other angels, including you, have broken wings? So none of you can fly. Or I guess teleport?”

Castiel nodded. “I have become a proficient driver, I’d like to say. I’ve done my best to cope with the loss.”

“That’s something I need to do. Learn to cope,” Sam said with a sigh. “Even if Dean is alive now, based on what I’ve been told, I still can’t dismiss what I saw hours ago. I can’t forget failing Dean, losing him to those hellhounds.”

He turned the knob on his door, the door clicking open behind him.

“You still remember losing Dean only yesterday, Sam. It’s okay to grieve now, to be angry. It’s too soon for you to cope, to move on. That comes with time.”

“If my memories don’t get fixed… can you help me? Or know someone who can?” Sam asked Castiel, a hopeful look in his eyes.

Castiel looked at him sadly. “I’m so sorry, Sam. Recovering all those years of memories is a delicate matter. I don’t trust myself to go inside your head. I worry I may hurt you more. I don’t want to risk that.”

Sam bit his lip giving a slight nod. Tentatively, he placed his hand on Castiel’s shoulder, patting it. 

“That’s okay. I appreciate you being cautious,” he said to Castiel. 

He dropped his hand from Castiel’s shoulder. 

To Castiel, it sounded like Sam wished that he would be willing to take the risk. 

Sam backed into his room, opening the door further. 

Hating being unable to help Sam when he needed him the most, Castiel was eager to make another offer. 

“Sam, wait. I can prove to you I’m an angel,” Castiel spoke up before Sam could close himself off in his bedroom.

Sam perked up, expression brightening. “Okay, sounds good. How?”

“I can heal you. If you’re willing to make a cut in your skin, I will heal your wound.”

Sam agreed. “I can do that.”

Castiel followed him inside his room, directing Sam to where he knew he kept his knife.

Sam took the knife, took a breath, exhaling, and he made a cut across the palm of his left hand.

Castiel moved his hand over the wound, a white glow emanating from his hand as his grace healed the injury easily. Castiel did feel mildly fatigued after, something that was becoming unhappily common lately. 

His power was waning, he knew, and it seemed even a cut would leave him tired, however fleetingly.

Sam watched the glow with eyes wide. Afterwards, he appeared surprised to find the cut well and truly healed. He flexed his hand as if to test that everything was in order.

Sam looked up at Castiel with a smile. “Thank you. That was-- I think I believe it now -- that you’re an angel. Or at least close to believing…” Sam trailed off, and then he looked at Castiel more carefully. 

“I think I see your halo, Castiel,” Sam declared, appearing shocked.

Castiel frowned. “I don’t know how that could be. I did not make it appear. Humans shouldn’t be able to see it.”

Sam looked down. He rubbed the back of his neck. “Sorry then. I didn’t mean to-- if that offends you. I just wanted you to know.” Sam said nervously. 

“It’s fine, Sam. If you see it, you see it. I imagine my halo looks better than the current state of my wings.”

“Yes, it’s bright-- yellow and white with a bit of gold. Like a crown, I guess, floating above your head.”

Castiel smiled. “Yes, that sounds right. Perhaps the wound on your shoulder is giving you the ability to see things you shouldn’t be able to otherwise.”

Sam removed his shirt partially, just so his shoulder wound could be exposed. “This you mean? I’m not sure how I got it, but it looks like something more than a gunshot wound.”

“It is not a simple wound. I wish I could heal it. I did try to repair it some days ago, but I couldn’t. I am sorry. I wish I could do more.”

Sam flashed him a quick smile. He put his shirt back on. “It’s okay. It’s not painful or anything. I’ll live.”

Castiel smiled at him in return. “I will leave you here to your rest. If you need me, then I’ll be outside the door. Or you can call me on your phone.”

Sam looked at him as if he were waiting for something to happen. Or possibly gathering the courage to take some action?

Sam closed the distance between them and he bent his head to kiss Castiel softly on the lips.

Castiel was very much surprised at first, but he leaned into the kiss and responded in kind. He deepened the kiss, sensing that Sam -- though he barely knew him due to his memory loss-- wanted to continue the kiss.

Sam pulled away after a few moments. Breathless, he exclaimed, “Sorry! I just -- I’m a mess here. Knowing I lost all these memories. And you seemed so… I appreciate you dealing with me. Even if it has to be frustrating when you expect me to know you. But right now, you’re barely more than a stranger to me. And I’m sorry. I’m--”

Castiel held up a hand. “No apologies, all right? I’m happy to help you, in any way I’m able. I can tell you’re still feverish. I can return your body temperature to a normal level.”

Sam had a look of mischief in his eyes. “You think that’s why I kissed you? Because I have a fever.”

Castiel wasn’t sure how to respond to that. “Perhaps? It’s not unusual to do strange things while battling a fever. Isn’t it?”

Sam smiled. “Okay, go ahead.”

Raising a finger, Castiel pressed it to Sam’s hot forehead. He let his grace flow through him and lift the veil of fever from Sam’s body. 

He dropped his hand back to his side. He looked Sam over. He seemed more alert as the fever had gone from his body. 

“I still want to kiss you,” Sam told him. “But hard to beat that last one…”

Castiel tried his best not to be flustered at Sam’s compliment. Instead, he changed the subject. “You’re feeling better?”

“Yeah. Thank you,” Sam said to him. 

Castiel was about to respond when he felt something pulling him away. No, wait, it was someone. Dread filled him as he felt himself leaving the Bunker, being transported to an unknown destination.

~ * ~

Sam stood there, staring at the empty space where the angel Castiel had been standing. Judging by the shocked expression on his face, Sam guessed that Castiel had been forced to leave. But where had he gone? And more worryingly, who or what had taken him away?

He looked down at his phone, and he considered calling Dean. Or who he should believe was Dean. Only a lingering doubt stopped him from accepting it had been Dean on the phone before. 

Sam shook his head. True, Dean would most likely know what to do here. Or maybe not. Sam didn’t know if Dean had dealt with a situation like this. Or even knew a good way to resolve it.

No, he would figure this out on his own. Sam may have lost over a decade of memories, but he still had faith in himself. He didn’t need to ask Dean. After all, Dean would be gone for good and Sam would be left on his own. He had to learn sooner rather than later to depend on himself. The memory just the previous day of Dean being ripped apart haunted him. He remembered holding Dean in his arms, tears coming down his face as he realized he was now alone. There was still Bobby, yeah, who was like a father to them, but nothing compared to his older brother. It was just different, deeper somehow.

Faith. Sam clung to that word. Right. He should have thought of that sooner. He decided to pray. He wouldn’t give up on the angel who had been patient with him. When Sam imagined Castiel could have known some way to fix him, to make Sam remember him before he lost those memories.

Although Sam had felt a connection to the angel. Could that mean he still had his memories somewhere locked inside his head? And this love he felt for the angel was his lost memories trying to get out? He was sure he had kissed Castiel because of this connection he couldn’t fully understand. It hadn’t just been the fever.

Sam halted his thoughts, refocusing on the matter at hand. He needed to get Castiel back. Even if Castiel couldn’t fly, hopefully he could hear Sam’s prayer and find his way back to him.

“Castiel? It’s Sam. Castiel, I need you here. I’m worried about you. I don’t know how to help you. I hope you can hear this… Castiel, Castiel, Castiel,” Sam repeated his name as if that would boost the power of the prayer.

Not if he knew if that was a thing, saying the name over and over to make the prayer stronger. But Sam thought to give it a shot.

As the hour mark approached since Castiel vanished, Sam heard a rustling sound. Was that -- was that the sound of wings? Wings rustling, yeah, that had to be it.

Castiel appeared before him.

“Sam, thank you for your prayer,” Castiel told him. He looked grim, which worried Sam.

“Are you okay? I thought your wings were damaged? How did you teleport?”

Castiel’s face darkened. “It’s difficult to explain. But the important thing is I can recover your memories, Sam. If you’ll allow me inside your head.”

“Yes. Yes, if you could get me my memories back, then do it. Thank you.”

Sam wasn’t sure why he was granting permission. Clearly something was going on with Castiel. He really should make for the exit and stay away from him. He didn’t know where Castiel had been or how he suddenly had working wings along with a power boost -- allowing him now to fix Sam’s memory loss problem.

Somehow, he still trusted Castiel. Those lost memories trying to get out, to re-establish themselves inside his mind had made sure that Sam would trust the angel. Sam chose to trust in those memories he desperately wanted to get back. He felt like it was a message he just couldn’t ignore or disagree with. So Sam made peace with what he felt and hoped he was making the right choice.

Sam nodded as Castiel placed his hands on either side of Sam’s head.

Sam watched Castiel squint his eyes, jaw clenched as he concentrated at getting Sam’s memories back. Or maybe it was more a matter of releasing them from whatever locked box they’d been in.

After twenty minutes, Sam stumbled back, shocked and dismayed as the years of memories came flooding back to him. 

Castiel caught him before Sam could fall, his legs feeling weak as the onslaught of memories overwhelmed him.

“Sam, Sam? How are you? Here, lie down,” Cas guided him to his bed, supporting him so that he wouldn’t fall.

Sam let Cas sit him on the bed. He removed Sam’s shoes and coaxed to lie down. 

“Cas, what happened? Last I remember was talking to Dean and taking the warding down to let you in.”

Cas gave him a weak smile. “Are you okay, Sam?”

“Yeah, I think so. I feel my fever is gone. Please tell me Cas, what happened?”

“You had temporary amnesia. I was able to restore the memories you lost.”

“Thank you, Cas.”

“I must go now,” Cas announced, moving to leave.

Sam reached out his hand to him, grabbing Cas’s forearm. “No, man, you can’t just go. I can tell I’m not getting the full story here.”

Cas sighed. “I saw Chuck. It wasn’t by choice. He repaired my wings and gave me my full Grace back, the amount I had before Metatron stole it for his spell.”

Sam’s eyes widened. “How the hell? Why would Chuck do that? You didn’t ask him to, I bet. I thought he hated all of us.”

Cas shook his head. “And I believe Chuck isn’t happy now that I escaped. Your prayer, when you had amnesia, was like an anchor for me. I was able to use it as a way to leave Chuck’s presence. Now I fear Chuck will be hunting me down. I can’t put you in danger too, Sam. I have to leave the bunker.”

Sam sat up in bed. “Cas, we can figure this out. I can contact Dean, and… you’re not alone in this, okay? Remember that.”

Cas nodded. He looked indecisive for a moment before he knelt down he kissed Sam on the lips. Sam froze, surprised at Cas’s gesture. But he returned the pressure, pulling Cas closer to him so that he could kiss Cas back, teasing his way inside Cas’s mouth.

Then Cas pulled away, standing up. He smiled softly at Sam, seeming pleased that Sam had accepted his kiss. “If you need me…”

With that half sentence, Castiel teleported out with his wings rustling in his wake.

Dazed, Sam put his hand to his lips. Had he and Cas just kissed?

Despite the Chuck situation being urgent and that he really should get on with calling Dean, Sam couldn’t help but take a pause. 

He was sure a silly grin was forming on his face. He was grateful Dean wasn’t there to see it. 

One thing was for sure, he was going to do all it took to help Cas. He wouldn't lose him.

*

**Author's Note:**

> I'm sorry for the cliffhanger there. I wrote this sort of as a mid season finale where you're left hanging a bit. I have ideas about what exactly happened during the scene between Cas and Chuck. I'm considering a sequel to this. Because of course there has to be a catch to what Chuck did for Cas.


End file.
